John Brosnan - The Sky Lords

“I’ll tell you after we’ve eaten. I don’t want to kill your appetite.”

“Don’t look down if it disturbs you,” said Milo.

“I can’t help it,” Jan told him weakly as she clung to the support bar with all her strength. It was almost as bad as it had been in the wicker basket hanging beneath the Lord Pangloth . They were crammed with several other slaves into a glass-sided box that was slowly rising within a vast, sagging cavern like the stomach of some gigantic animal.

What intensified Jan’s feeling of vertigo was that the glass cage and its heavy human cargo was supported by two strips of narrow black tape that looked as substantial as hair ribbons. Jan couldn’t understand why the tapes didn’t snap under all that weight and Milo’s brief and puzzling explanation that the tapes were made of an extra-strong material that came from beyond the sky gave her no solace at all.

“Relax and enjoy the view,” said Milo cheerfully. “It’s quite a remarkable sight, you must admit. I’ve been seeing it for three years but it never fails to impress me.”

Jan forced herself to look around. She shuddered. The great, flesh-like walls were undulating slowly as if alive. “I don’t understand. There’s nothing keeping it all up. Why doesn’t it collapse on us?”

“I’ve already tried to explain to you,” said Milo. “We’re surrounded by gas. Helium. Millions and millions of cubic feet of it. You can’t see it because it’s invisible, like air. This gas bag, and all the others like it, is what keeps the Lord Pangloth flying. Think of it as like being inside a giant version of a toy balloon.”

“A what?” she said blankly.

“Ah yes. I forgot. No toy balloons. Not even kites allowed. The law of the Sky Lords. …” He rubbed his chin. “Okay then, think of it as being like a giant soap bubble. You do know what a soap bubble is, don’t you.”

She gave him a disdainful look. “Of course I do. But it doesn’t look like a soap bubble. Soap bubbles are round.”

“And so would this be if it was completely inflated with gas. It isn’t, though, because when a Sky Lord goes higher the surrounding air pressure drops and the gas in the cell expands. If you put too much gas in the cell when it’s at a low altitude the gas would rupture the cell at a higher altitude. Understand?”

“I think so.”

He chuckled patronizingly and made to ruffle her hair but she ducked. One of the other slaves sniggered, but he soon went silent when Milo turned and looked at him.

Jan said to Milo, “You gave me a week to decide, remember? You promised not to touch me in the meantime.”

“I was being friendly, that’s all,” he said, sounding hurt.

“Some friend,” she said bitterly.

The glass cage was almost at the top of the gas cell. Jan saw what seemed to be an inverted glass dome attached to the ceiling of the cell. As they neared the dome an opening appeared in it and the cage, still climbing up its impossibly thin twin lengths of black tape, entered. The dome swung shut beneath the cage and then Jan saw another opening appear in the material of the cell itself. “Gas lock,” explained Milo. “Prevents the gas from escaping.”

The cage came to a halt in a dimly lit space above the gas cell. The doors of the cage slid open. “Out!” ordered Benny. The slaves spilled from the cage. Jan stared about wonderingly. The grey and shadowy space between the floor and the low ceiling seemed to stretch in all directions forever. A maze of struts and spidery girders connected the two surfaces.

“We’re between the inner and outer hulls,” said Milo quietly.

“No talking!” yelled Benny. “Get your gear and get topside, glass walkers!” He came up to Jan. “Amazon, you can use Milroy’s gear. He sure won’t be needing it again.”

Several of the slaves laughed as they headed towards a row of wooden lockers standing nearby. Milo led Jan to one and showed her how it opened.

“What happened to Milroy?” she asked as she gazed at the bewildering collection of objects within the locker.

“He was careless,” said Milo. He pulled out a quilted jacket and handed it to her. “This goes on first. You’ll need it. It’s going to be cold out there.”

It was too big for her but Jan was grateful for it. It was already much colder up in this strange place than it had been way down in the slave’s quarters. Milo was meanwhile pulling other things out of her locker. “Put this on over the jacket,” he instructed, giving her a kind of harness made of leather. She allowed him to help her do up its many fastenings, trying to ignore the feel of his hands when they touched her body. She wondered what the metal loops on the harness were for. Next came a pair of boots with thick soles made of a strange rubbery substance, then a pair of leather gloves. Both boots and gloves looked well-used and had a pungent odour. Then Milo handed her a large coil of cord with metal clips at each end. He showed her how to carry it over her shoulder, with the aid of a loop on the harness. Finally he gave her a stick with a clump of cloth strips on one end.

She stared at it. It’s a mop , she told herself disbelievingly. What was she supposed to do with it—clean the outside of the Sky Lord? The idea was absurd. Surely the hull was kept clean by rain showers and the wind.

“Move it, you lazy bastards!” roared Benny, moving among them. “Last one topside will get a kiss from my razzle stick!”

Jan cringed mentally at the memory of the unbearable pain she’d experienced when the thing had touched her before. She looked desperately towards Milo who had gone to a locker at the end of the row and was hastily donning his own equipment. She hurriedly joined him. “Where are we supposed to go?” she asked.

He jerked his head. She looked and saw a ladder extending down from the ceiling. The others were already moving towards it. Benny was pushing a lever at the base of the ladder. A panel in the upper hull slid open and Jan saw bright sunlight and felt a rush of cold air. She went to the ladder, anxious not to be the last up it but every time she tried to get on it one of the other slaves blocked her way. She began to feel panicky. Anything would be better than to feel the effects of that magic stick again.

But they continued to block her way until the last of the other slaves, grinning, ascended the ladder ahead of her. She glanced apprehensively towards Benny and then realized that Milo was holding back behind her, waiting for her to go up. With relief she got on the ladder. As she climbed she looked back over her shoulder. Milo was following. Benny was scowling at him but made no move to touch him with the pain stick.

Had Milo deliberately put himself at risk on her behalf or had he known Benny was only bluffing, she wondered? But then she emerged through the hatchway and all such thoughts vanished. For a few moments she was so disorientated she froze on the ladder but then she felt a sharp tap on her leg and Milo said curtly, “Out, amazon. Plenty of time for sight-seeing later. Too much time. …”

She slowly climbed the rest of the way out and stood beside the hatchway, bracing herself against the stiff wind that blew over the airship’s hull. Airship . She had forcibly to remind herself that she was indeed standing on top of the airship. So immense was the hull she had got the impression she’d been magically transported to some other world. She couldn’t see the ground, all she could see was the curving, alien landscape of the Sky Lord’s vast back in all directions.

Feeling insignificant and vulnerable she went and took a firm hold on the rail that formed a large circle around the hatchway area. The other slaves, oblivious of the view, laughed and joked loudly over the whistling of the wind. “Quite a sight, eh?” asked Milo, joining her at the rail. “I know how you feel. I felt the same way when I first came topside. But you’ll get over it.”